Left Behind
by karnivallo
Summary: A dull boy tries to catch up with his friends, expecting rain, gloom and mud - not rampaging Pokemon, self-proclaimed immortals, random corpses, sarcastic veterans, exorcists and stalking shadows. And all the while, he must convince himself that he's not going mad...
1. I - Aberration

**Prologue – I**

"…_Shen, let's become Pokémon trainers—all five of us."_

* * *

**Left Behind – I**

* * *

"—are even you listening…?"

I jumped, but turned around in time to see the well-built man stare doubtfully at me.

"Ah, sorry, umm…what was it again?" I had the decency to look sheepish. Sighing, Roark handed over a shiny new Gym badge and a TM disk.

"Here's your reward. You battled well for a novice."

I scratched the back of my head, looking doubtfully up at him in his hardhat. I always had a strange, suspicious feeling around adults, and despite how nice this one was, and being a Gym Leader on top of that, I was still suspicious.

"…You're not just saying that out of politeness, are you?"

He laughed, ruffling my hair with a rough, calloused hand that smelled too much of rock, dirt and leather.

"No, I'm not. Don't let it get to your head, though. You're not the best I've seen."

I nodded mutely, before turning around to see if it was still there.

"…Is there something there?"

"Oh—no, it's nothing! Erm, I just thought…n-nothing…"

Roark looked at me strangely, before nodding once and sweeping past in the direction of Oreburgh Mine. I took one last glance, and then scampered off towards the Pokémon Centre, shaking from head to toe.

I'd only been out for two weeks, but I was more or less used to travelling, although I still remained wary of the dark forests by the side of the roads. Sinnoh was littered with fierce Pokémon that roamed the mountains, having some of the toughest, most powerful species in the world. Novice trainers starting out in this region were a bit more respected than others. Apparently it had to do with more Pokémon evolving here than in other lands and seas.

Pokémon Centres were heaven, I had learned. Any shoes except for the expensive and practical ones were useless at keeping your feet alive and not screaming bloody murder at your nerves. If you weren't a social trainer, you had to at least eavesdrop to stay up-to-date on the newest titbit of potentially important news. There were other things that your survival and convenience required, but I was still learning (although I wasn't hoping that I learned any of them the hard way or actually died in the process).

If you wanted to survive financially, though, you had to win battles. There were some older trainers who went for the inexperienced ones for an easier win, but it was generally an unspoken, mutual agreement among trainers to pick opponents closer to their own level. It made for far better battles, less frowns and it kept the training population afloat.

Once I returned to the Centre, I handed over my team for healing and then retreated back into my room. I'd been planning to leave once I'd defeated Roark, but I'd already paid for one more night, so I was torn between leaving for Eterna and staying for the night. Eventually, my lazy side won out, so I remained unpacked and waiting for dinnertime to come around. I wasn't the excitable kind of novice trainer who went charging through Gyms trying to top the record.

Besides, I'd already gained two badges in two weeks. Starting out in Canalave, I'd earned my first from Byron, then my second from Roark. Travelling through Routes normally took a bit longer, and it was generally impossible to go through an entire region under one year. But I'd taken a boat from Canalave to Jubilife, and walked straight from there to Oreburgh without a single stop. Once my legs decided to kill me for it, however, I had decided to take it slow and easy, enough to get used to hiking and travelling as fast as possible without collapsing into the Pokémon Centre. I reddened at that particular memory, still feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

I simply wanted to catch up with my friends as fast as possible, but it looked like I would have to give up on that goal.

I had always been the slowest one, after all.

* * *

Beron was a quiet bronzor, something I learnt on the first day I received it, when my parents had nonchalantly let it slip that most psychic Pokémon could talk telepathically.

It preferred to not speak at all, only saying the occasional yes or no inside my head. It didn't eat anything, nor did it sleep, as an inorganic-based Pokémon. I was wholly convinced that it was one of the most boring and inexpressive Pokémon in the world. I was fine with that, but it made for a rather awkward atmosphere while travelling, especially since we had only been Pokémon and trainer for a month. But I myself wasn't a very good talker and talked little with other trainers at Centres or before and after battles. They, in return, seemed to find me rather inapproachable and avoided me.

Which was why I was exactly so surprised when a trainer asked me if I could accompany him to Valley Windworks.

Dinner had rolled around, and I had been quietly munching on a cheap meal of salad and meat buns in the cafeteria. A boy had approached me then, with red hair, a sour expression and a chimchar jogging by his side.

"Hey, you're a newbie, right?"

Still chewing my meat bun, I looked up at him, and then looked pointedly at his chimchar. He was ten-years-old like I was, but short, mousy and stringy.

"Yeah, yeah, I _know_; I'm a total newb as well." He flapped one hand flippantly. "But that's why I'm asking you—all the other trainers are like 'Get lost newbie' and going around showing off their teams."

I swallowed my meat bun and looked up at him curiously from my seat.

"What?"

"I need a travelling partner, to get me through Ravaged Path."

I cocked my head at the unfamiliar name and he sighed irritably. Lying flat on the table like a strange plate (I had been tempted to put my salad over it, but it had just given me a _look_ as it had sensed my thoughts), Beron stared at him while psychically broadcasting a feeling of slight accusation – excuse _us_ for being less experienced than _you_ are.

"It's a cave in Route 204. You can't pass through over to Floaroma Town without going through it, and I'm heading for Valley Windworks."

Uncertain, I scratched my head.

"Err…well, why can't you just…?"

The boy scowled before speaking again.

"Rotfer is my only Pokémon, and we keep losing to the geodudes." The chimchar gave a small sound of indignation, but otherwise kept quiet.

I blinked.

"…Umm, you're a trainer, aren't you? You can catch another Pokémon – there are machops north of here."

The boy looked even more annoyed at this, and was practically glaring at me. I hastily edged away. Beron rose protectively into the air between us, Rotfer the chimchar following its every move with narrowed eyes, his flame-tail flaring.

"I'm not a _trainer_, I'm a _coordinator_," he hissed, spitting out the word 'trainer' like it was venom. His green eyes flared alarmingly. "This is why I hate Pokémon Centres. Everyone thinks I like rolling around in the dirt like a hippy like the rest of them!"

I held back Beron, but held it between us like a shield. The bronzor evolution line had two abilities – Heatproof and Levitate. Beron had Levitate, but it still had good defence and was hard to take down without a powerful fire-type. But really, if the chimchar did attack, my fingers would most likely be burnt to crisp—Beron didn't make for such a big shield, after all.

Seeming to come to his sense, the boy shook his head and gave me an apologetic look.

"A-anyway," he coughed. "I saw that you had a bronzor, so I'm asking you for help. I don't want to catch a Pokémon I'll never use or like, since that'll be rude. Bronzor are part-steel and part-psychic, so it'll help a lot in caves, since there're lots of geodudes and zubats. Do you have a second Pokémon?"

I felt unnerved by the way he was talking as if I'd already agreed to go with him. Beron just stared harder at him as it sensed my indignation. The chimchar piped out a small word in their language that made my usually stoic Pokémon radiate a challenging aura. Just to make sure, I tightened my grip on it.

"Err, only a staryu. But it got a bit too injured against Roark's cranidos, so it's still healing…"

The boy smiled, which made him look oddly graceful, even _pretty_, like a girl. Indeed, there was something graceful about him. It was biased of me, but I almost understood his nature as a coordinator – there was something about his girlishness that reminded me of those bullied kids who were made fun of in school.

"Even better—so, can you come?"

I twitched, looking away.

"Well…"

I'd been planning to go straight up north to Eterna. Going around the long way through Floaroma meant that I'd have to go through Eterna Forest. Oreburgh Gate had been easy enough to navigate through, being quite short in length, but I was scared of the possibility of getting lost in a dark forest, even with the PokéDex's GPS system and the latest e-map model.

Actually, I'd been hoping to avoid big forests and caves throughout my journey altogether, but seeing as they were the topic of conversations within trainer circles quite often; it seemed to be an inevitable path for a trainer. I contemplated turning the boy down, but felt myself drawn to seeing new sights. And both of my Pokémon were expressive as concrete walls. I felt a little more hope of catching a more energetic Pokémon that was really, actually _alive_.

Before I knew it, I was nodding.

"Alright, I'll go."

The boy outright grinned, clapping his hands together.

"Thanks! I've wanted to try catching an electric-type that _isn't_ a shinx, you know? They're way too common. And there's also a contest in Floaroma coming up next month!"

Feeling a little nervous and excited inside at now having a travelling partner (at least, until Valley Windworks), I finished the rest of my salad and moved onto my last meat bun.

"Anyway, I'm Mackenzie."

I was left awkwardly silent, before I realised that he was staring at me rather pointedly. Feeling stupid, I swallowed the piece of the meat bun in my mouth.

"Err…Shen."

He scrunched up his face in confusion, before realising that I had given him a genuine name.

"Ah, so you're from the Orient?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Alright then, let's meet at the front entrance tomorrow morning at around…nine? Is that OK with you?"

I nodded mutely. Beron gazed eerily after Rotfer the chimchar as he scampered after his trainer, or coordinator, if one wanted to be specific. Anyway, weren't coordinators just trainers who focused on glamour?

Mackenzie called back just before he reached the door to the foyer.

"Hey, Shen—"

I looked up just as he flashed me another grin, which made him look all the more like a—

"Did you know that I'm a girl?"

My rest of my meat bun ended up splattered over Beron, as Mackenzie's laughter echoed through the foyer.

* * *

Ten to nine in the morning found me yawning, but waiting nervously in the Centre foyer. Older trainers passed by, some heading out of Oreburgh, and some waiting to challenge Roark, as a few were complaining about his rampardos, which made me glad that I was still a novice trainer and wasn't up to that level of challenge yet. I had retrieved my staryu back from a smiling Nurse Joy, who seemed to magically know about my accompanying Mackenzie.

Ten minutes, however, flew by much too fast, most likely fuelled by the unease coiling in the pit of my stomach like a cold, icy ekans. When a familiar voice called from the stairway, I almost jumped.

"Did I make you wait?"

"No, err, only for twelve minutes." I glanced at my pokétch.

She gazed at me for a moment longer before smiling.

"I forgot how honest trainers could be," she muttered, before shaking her head. She took the lead out of the Centre. "It's not like I hate trainers or anything, but sometimes they get _way_ too annoying with their conversations. Most of them are boys, so they usually talk about battles, girls or the League challenge. Plus they never keep clean. Most of them anyway," she added as she looked at me up and down.

That was only because I had grown up under a strict rule of orderliness. I supposed I'd start looking like I'd rolled out of everything that nature had to give, from dusty to downright gruesome and filthy, once I started to get the hang of travelling and training.

Now that I knew that she was a girl, Mackenzie suddenly looked a whole lot more feminine—actually, she had looked rather androgynous from the start, and it had only been my inability to look at anyone in the eye that had held me from seeing her face properly. Her hair was short and somewhat boyish, but if I imagined her in a dress, she was obviously a girl.

"I've met a few older boys who were coordinators before," she said, her smile turning to one of amusement, "and they're all polite and gentlemanly and stuff, except for a few. Some just ignore the others, though. Well, it's not like contests are all about fashion and technique, anyway…"

Thankfully, Mackenzie belonged to the talkative and friendly part of the planet, and was easy to get along with. I wasn't the sort of person who could clearly say what he liked and disliked, since I never liked anything quite as much than just being quiet and alone, but I could quite clearly say that I liked Mackenzie and her infectious smiles. Listening to her stories made time go a lot faster, and by the time she was talking about a scandalous incident after a contest, we were almost out of Oreburgh.

"…and then she just slapped him, which didn't look nearly as interesting on TV as it did up close and live, but—"

I froze, halting in my step, a shiver running up my spine.

A sickeningly familiar feeling took hold of my body like a ghostly, eerie tug at my mind.

Mackenzie went on for a few steps in front, before realising that I wasn't following. I was dimly aware of her asking something, but I was already turning around.

I inwardly _screamed_. I fought against my body as it turned around as though it were magnetized. I didn't want to—no—

My jaw loosened in horror at the small, dark shape set amongst the rocky outcropping, almost too far to see, feeling the weight of the empty eyes staring at me—staring, just staring—staring-staring—it's waving, pathetic limbs flailing, its horribly dark body, something grotesque, facing firmly my way—something unknown and something which I _didn't want to see or feel_.

I knew I shouldn't have turned around. I knew I shouldn't have looked, just like that time after I had beaten Roark.

But like a pathetic nosepass, I kept turning like I was helplessly drawn to the _thing_, whatever it was.

"—Shen!"

A hand lay gently on my shoulder. I turned around to see large, worried eyes, bright and impossibly green.

"…Are you alright?"

Wiping away drops of cold sweat, I ran my clammy, numb hands over my jacket. I forced my legs still, and pulled the straps of my bag further up my shoulders, heading to Oreburgh Gate, gathering my mind and calming my nerves, trying not to breathe so hard.

"…I'm…fine."

She didn't believe me, but nodded and took my side as we headed into the darkness of the tunnel.

I turned around once again, though, and saw nothing where it once was.

Like always.


	2. II - Trainer

"…_Next question, explain what Routes are_."

"Routes – a path where trainers and wild Pokémon will interact. Trainers travel to reach other cities and towns, and wild Pokémon who wish to grow stronger or see the human world will appear before them. Wild Pokémon who are opposed to being captured by trainers, hence entering the training world, reside within the restricted reservation zones between Routes and cities."

"_Good. Explain clearly the consequences of breaching the restriction laws_."

"Entering the reservation zone will result in a heavy fine. Battles with Pokémon inside them will result in a month-long quarantine of the trainer, the trainer's team and the wild Pokémon. Illegal poaching and capturing will be punished by prison sentence till death."

"_Next, what is the purpose of poké balls_?"

"To store and keep safe the Pokémon inside while the trainer travels across environments unsuited for the Pokémon in question. Unless the Pokémon opposes the confinement of the ball, or is kept outside for a genuine purpose, release of the Pokémon in an unapt environ will be treated as abuse and will be dealt with according to law."

"_Excellent, full marks—student number 26 passes. You will receive your trainer licence at the end of the day_."

* * *

**Left Behind – II**

* * *

"Water Gun!"

"Extrasensory!"

An arc of water shot towards Beron, who promptly turned to the side to act like a disc, taking less damage that it would usually. Outlined with a bright purple glow, the shellos promptly fainted once Beron turned to concentrate.

The boy opposite me, a novice like I was, groaned, padding over. I mutely accepted half his wallet, still not comfortable with the euphoria of victory.

"Good match," he said, mouth scrunching in displeasure at his loss. "That move when your bronzor turned to the side to reduce damage was pretty clever."

"Err, well…"

I glanced at Beron, who simply whirled around once with an air of bowing at the end of a ceremony.

"Thanks…"

"You're coming from Oreburgh, right?" the boy asked. "Any tips on how to beat Roark?"

I settled my mouth into a firm line.

"Watch out for his cranidos. Its head can deflect nearly everything."

"Righto – thanks."

It had been some days since we had left Oreburgh and we were beginning to near Jubilife, if the increasing amount of travellers we passed by were an indication of anything. Mackenzie often watched me as I battled with fellow trainers, which made me rather nervous and uncomfortable. After my third battle with a passing trainer during our trek through Route 203, however, I'd gotten used to having a spectator during battles – it wasn't like I could keep it in mind during the heat of the matches anyway, dull as they were, being that I was still a novice.

Mackenzie sidled up to my side, Rotfer in her arms.

"Did I just see an example of trainer camaraderie?"

I blinked, looking back at her.

"Isn't it normal?"

She shook her head, stroking her chimchar's head.

"Not among coordinators. It's the norm to keep all the tips and tricks a secret. Think of us a little like magicians – we can't give out our tricks like mint candy."

"Oh…"

"…"

"…Umm…"

"Well—come on! You should at least ask me something like 'show me some, then' or 'that's lame!' or something like that!" She set her hands on her hips as she leaned her upper body forwards, knocking a slender knuckle at my skull as she glared up at me. I deadpanned at her, having grown familiar with her antics over the past days of our travel.

"Well, it's not like I'm good at socializing…"

"Ugh…" She hung her head. Rotfer the chimchar piped up something that I couldn't understand, looking at me reproachfully as he shook his little fist.

The air around me and Mackenzie and Rotfer shimmered strangely.

"_Quiet, ape_…," hissed Beron telepathically, speaking for the first time in days.

Rotfer growled something that only made Beron look angrier, its round eyes narrowed.

Mackenzie looked between them as though watching a tennis match, and then looked up at me.

"Then why don't we settle it the old way? Let's have a battle."

I almost spluttered at her suggestion.

"Settle what?" I asked, looking at her doubtfully.

"One Pokémon each," she declared, ignoring my question as she retreated several meters away. "You can use your staryu if you want. It won't matter."

I raised an eyebrow, but complied, anyway.

Five minutes later, Prisma, my staryu, stood battered and charred, but victorious nevertheless. To be honest, I had never battled against such a troublesome Pokémon. Rotfer had been fast enough to keep up with Prisma's speed and had used a clever combination of fire, an alarming ThunderPunch and several nimble movements that I'd realised were Contest-type movements to counter my staryu's tactics and water.

I fished around in my bag for a Potion.

"Well…that was…educational…"

I tapped Prisma in warning, and then sprayed the stinging mixture over its whole body. Meanwhile, Mackenzie took out a Revive and a Potion from her bag.

Once Rotfer was back up and standing, Mackenzie grinned with a flourish.

"OK, the moment we reach Jubilife, you will accompany me shopping!"

I almost spluttered again at her grand speech.

"Wait-what?!" I said in disbelief. Hanging by my side, Beron gave off a dispassionate aura as it glared over at Rotfer, who was laughing in unison with his trainer.

"I gave you an educational match. You learnt from it to not underestimate coordinators and girls. Oh, and I also gave you the 'don't think type matchups decide everything' lesson, plus the 'unexpected super-effective move' lesson. I think that counts for something as well." She smiled victoriously.

I quite suddenly realised that this was all to motivate me into doing something outrageous – such as accompanying a girl shopping. I'd heard the rumours, and I had sworn to never step foot into a shopping mall with a female acquaintance if I ever made one, which was ironically my current situation.

I deadpanned again.

"We never decided a deal for this match. Plus, there was nothing to settle between us."

"Nope-zip-nada!" she exclaimed, making an overblown 'X' with her arms. "You are coming shopping with me for my Contest costume, and that's final!"

She reminded me so much of my mum that I promptly gave up.

* * *

"How does this look?"

"You look chubby in that."

A shoe found itself six feet deep into my face. Rotfer glared at me, only to meet Beron's cold gaze. Various customers who were browsing the store's aisles, mostly women and girls, shot me various looks ranging from disbelief to pity.

Reaching Jubilife had eventually worn both of us out so much that we had gone directly to the Pokémon Centre upon setting foot into the city. I had been hoping that she would've forgotten about the promised (forced) shopping trip the next morning, but her knocks on my door, along with the dreaded s-word, had accompanied the morning sun filtering through the window of my Centre room.

"How about this, then?" she asked, revealing herself with a flourish. I cocked my head, scrutinizing the murky green dress.

"We're ten-year-olds, plus you have the modern, tomboyish theme going on," I said, echoing what she had taught me about her style in Contests. "Are you trying something new?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Well, yeah. Sometimes I just get jealous of those really graceful girls who can fit into those dresses like they were born in them."

"…It doesn't look unnatural," I said. "Err, well…how should I say this. You look a lot more feminine in dresses – it's sort of like…the clothes decide your style for you." Hmm, was that it?

Looking blankly at me, she blinked once.

"That's exactly what my friends used to say," she replied thoughtfully. "Although that might not be such a good thing – every coordinator needs a certain style, and jack-of-all-trades can't get me very far…"

She faded into mumbles as I looked on in confusion. Deciding that she didn't need my help any further, I hurriedly broke up what would've been an outright war between Beron and Rotfer. By my other side, Prisma gave a low humming sound at Rotfer, who brandished a faintly crackling ThunderPunch in response. To my surprise, Prisma didn't retreat, but rather melted away into the background with Camouflage, shooting tiny jets of water at Rotfer.

I promptly returned my team and tried to calm down the angry wet chimchar. By the time he had bitten my arm and had almost roasted my thumb, Mackenzie had been struck by a gracious spark of inspiration, and had fled back into the changing area after grabbing a couple of clothes.

"How does _this_ look, then?!"

I turned around while pressing the sleeve of my jacket against the bleeding spots on my arm to see her in a plaid skirt, a red v-neck shirt that matched her hair and a pair of sneakers that I had seen her take out of her bag earlier. She had clipped her bangs to the side, showing off an unmistakeably feminine look I had never seen before. For a moment, I was speechless.

"…That's really good – ouch—stop, Rotfer."

Apparently my moment of surprise had satisfied her. She changed back into her jeans and jacket and then bounded over to the counter to buy the shirt and skirt.

Then Rotfer set my jacket on fire, and she gleefully dragged me off to buy me a new one.

* * *

Fortunately, Mackenzie wasn't rich enough to go on a real shopping spree, and we both needed to save our money for food and items anyway. She had bought me a better, tougher jacket, though, and once we had been sure that we were set, we left the shopping mall and headed back to the Pokémon Centre through the main streets, wary of the dark, narrow ones.

"I competed in the Contest in Jubilife once…," she said suddenly, as we passed a large structure that I just realised was the stadium.

"Oh…how did it turn out?" I asked uncertainly, tripped awkward at her abrupt declaration.

She shook her head.

"It was my second contest, but I lost again. I still only have Rotfer, so my choices were too limited… Like I said, I don't want to catch a Pokémon that I wouldn't like. I want to catch something a little more unique, and I heard that there were a few rare Pokémon in Valley Windworks, so…"

"And you tried to get there."

"But I couldn't get past Ravaged Path… Pathetic, isn't it? I can't handle a single Ground-type Pokémon, and I won't catch a Pokémon that'd obviously get me across easily."

I couldn't say anything to that, so I shut my mouth and looked up at the stadium's grand architecture. I couldn't imagine battling in something so _big_ and _official_. I'd die of stage-fright before hurling Beron's poké ball.

"Why is it?" I asked. "How did you get through Oreburgh Gate, when you can't even get through Ravaged Path?"

It had been the question that had been plaguing me since the day she had asked me to accompany her to Valley Windworks.

Mackenzie shook her head.

"You didn't see the place. It's called Ravaged Path for a reason, and the Pokémon there are a little more…active. Rotfer didn't stand a chance, and I almost skinned my knee on the rocks trying to get out of there… I may be good with trained battles, but when it comes to wild Pokémon I just…I'm not good with them."

Seeing her face, I decided to change the subject.

"You said that it was your second contest…do you have a Ribbon now?"

She shook her head, smiling ruefully.

"Most coordinators don't make a win until far later – that's the way most things are with art. You build up experience and technique through failures. Then you start to know what to do."

"Huh…then how do you make money?"

"Some travel and battle, like normal trainers. Some just stay at home and get a Pokémon that can Fly or Teleport. Some take the usual transportation. Some travel with their trainer-relatives. It varies." She shrugged, rolling Rotfer's poké ball between her hands.

"Me myself, I prefer to battle."

She dropped the poké ball.

I turned around as soon as the unfamiliar, laughing voice piped up, and promptly found my neck trapped between a scizor's deadly pincers.

"And Mackenzie there will be the last example."

An older girl with long, wavy black hair grinned, patting the scizor's steely exterior. Her familiar green eyes sparkled in a familiar way as she stepped on my foot.

"Hi, gloomy boy~," she sang delightfully. "Mind stepping away from my little sister?"


End file.
